


Grounding

by phyllisbaker



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29311524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phyllisbaker/pseuds/phyllisbaker
Summary: Sylvie has an anxiety attack on a call. Matt helps her.Trigger warning: description of anxiety attack.One shot.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 7
Kudos: 99





	Grounding

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one shot I had in my head. This will describe an anxiety attack so if that is a trigger for you, you may not want to read. However, grounding is a real technique some people use to help them during an anxiety attack. I own nothing. I'm no writer. Enjoy. :)

She doesn't remember how they got here anymore. Only that there are clowns EVERYWHERE. They're all around her, everywhere she looks, and one needing her help on the gurney.

As soon they pulled up to the scene, and she saw all the clowns, she felt it start to bubble in her chest. This horrible sense of dread and doom. It felt like a weight, trying to keep her in place. She tried to force it aside, they were just people in costumes and they needed help, but the closer she got to them, and the more time she spent around them, the more the weight grew.

It seeped into her bones and it became more and more difficult to move. She had to force her body to walk next to the gurney and past the crowd of clowns, her mind screaming at her muscles for compliance that was more and more difficult to pull off. When they finally made it to the ambo and it was time to do her job, to put her hands on a clown, all the weight became too much. She froze.

Her whole body locked in place, her hands tightly clenched in fists in front of her, trembling uncontrollably. Involuntary tears found their way down her face. Every breath short and quick. Everything was too much. The clowns. Having to work next to Casey and Grainger all shift. The movement and closeness of everyone around her, the noise, all of it. 

In her mind, she was fine. She found herself mentally screaming at her body to move.  
"What's wrong with you?!" She thought to herself. "You're fine! You're ok! You can't do this, you need to do your job. Move!"  
But her body refused to listen. It felt like her brain had been disconnected from her body. Her brain sending frantic signals the rest of her body couldn't get. People were noticing, now, and while their concern was in the right place, it made it all so much more heavy. She closed her eyes and whimpered, still trying to force her trembling body to cooperate with no success. She felt like she couldn't breath, like she was almost suffocating. Could she suffocate on air?

Suddenly, there were hands on her, gentle but firm, turning her to the side. She whimpered again, her body protesting against the touch, the movement. She tried to pull away, but the hands on her wouldn't let her.  
"Sylvie." The person spoke, softly. It was him. Of course it was him. It was always him. "Sylvie, look at me." He insisted. She opened her eyes, automatically finding Matt's. He watched her carefully.   
"It's ok. I've got you." He told her. "Sylvie, listen, I want you to find 5 things you can see. Can you do that for me? Say them if you can." She looked at him for a moment, her body still tense and trembling. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to pull away from him again. He put a warm hand on her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears. The other hand wrapped around her, resting on her back. Enough pressure to provide stability without making her feel trapped.  
"It's ok, Sylvie. Look at me. What do you see?" His voice commanding but gentle. She opened her eyes again and searched.  
"Your eyes." She managed.  
"That's good. What else do you see?" He encouraged.   
"Um...." she searched him with her eyes for things she could put a name to.  
"Bugles." She said again, still strained.  
"Keep going, you're doing great."  
She looked at her own hands, still shaking.  
"Gloves." She looked down. "Shoes."  
"One more, Sylvie." She looked up, now.  
"Clouds."  
"Good job, Sylvie. Now, tell me 4 things that you can feel." She looked at him with uncertainty, but he was stable and encouraging.   
"Hands. On my cheek. And my back." He gave her a quick smile.  
"Two more." He said. There was a breeze.  
"Cold wind." It was starting to become a little easier. She was still trembling, still too tense. But the weight seemed to get lighter and the world around her was becoming less overwhelming.   
"My hat. It's itchy." Matt smiled again.  
"OK. Now 3 things you can hear." She looked over his should and found a group of clowns and the weight started to grow again. Matt must have noticed because he moved his head to match her line of sight.  
"Don't look there." He told her. "Just here. Now listen, what do you hear?" The weight slowly lifted again and she closed her eyes, listening to the world around her, trying to focus on one noise at a time.  
"Umm.....people talking."   
"What else?"  
"Your breathing.....the ambo running." The weight seemed to get lighter and her body felt less tense. The trembling slowed. Breathing became easier.   
"Now, this might sound weird, but can you tell me 2 things that you smell?" He asked her. She smelled.  
"Smoke." Was the first thing that came to mind. But then there was another smell that she knew too well, and she smiled.  
"Your cologne." He smiled bigger this time. The weight was almost gone now, the trembling all but stopped. Her body was finally starting to listen to her commands.  
"OK, last thing, Sylvie. Can you tell me 1 thing you can taste." She licked her lips and laughed, smiling at him.  
"That horrible pecan coffee." He laughed a little, too. She could breath again. The weight was finally gone, but left a pit of shame, embarrassment, and exhaustion.  
"It's ok. You're ok. All these clowns, it's gotta be terrifying for you. I know it's hard, but you need to do this, you need to do your job, now. You've got this, and I've got you." His voice calm and gentle. Sylvie nodded. She took a deep, shaky breath, before turning from Matt and focusing her attention on the clown if front of her. Mackey had been watching the exchange quietly and out of the corner of her eye, Sylvie could make out the form of Grainger and she briefly wondered how much he'd seen. It was obvious he didn't know what had happened, why, or how to help.  
She could feel the weight growing again as she worked, but Matt stayed next to her, shielding her sight from seeing more of the clowns than she needed to, offering a source of comfort and stability. His presence made it easier to push back against the weight.   
Once the patient and Mackey were in the back of the ambo, Matt closed the doors and walked with her to the driver's side. Matt stood by the open driver's side door as she got in. She found his eyes again.  
"Thank you." She said, her voice full of emotion. He smiled at her with a shake of his head. That adorable, "aw shucks, it was nothing" head shake that was one of about 500,000 things she loved about him.  
"Always." He told her, before closing the door behind her. Sylvie put the ambo in gear and pulled away, watching Matt shrink in her side view mirror. How was she ever supposed to get over Matt Casey?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you all enjoyed this.


End file.
